As long as I’ve been able to remember, I’ve been a sniffer. In fact, my mother can and will tell anyone who will listen how my childhood signature catchphrase was “I smell something”.
Now, I could go on and elaborate for hours on the smells that repulse me or make my world go ‘round- think fresh-baked bread just as it hits the counter, just waiting for the golden pat of butter to hit the steam and slide down the crust- but I won’t.
That’s not answering the key question here- what’s not obvious to others about aromas, smells, and odors galore? Call it hyperfocus, call it a frivolous fixation- when my shnoz gets introduced to any smell- I’m wrapped up in the memories associated with it.
While fellow passengers on the campus transit react to an overdose of Axe body spray like it’s mustard gas, I’m hit with a sense of nostalgia for middle school and the time I waited for my then-crush outside of the locker rooms.
The vaguely sour smell of book glue? I’m reminded of the promise of new beginnings.
My friends tend to shoot me quizzical looks as I more often than not bring up something I’m smelling during a conversation; I like to think my acute attention to scents -that might not even cross my peers’ difference thresholds – allow me to be sensitive and more present in my life.
After all, smells bring forth some of the most powerful emotions and recollections we have.